Four For All (1975)

I like turkey.  Every Thanksgiving (or any time that it’s served with my family), I get chosen to carve up the bird.  It’s not that I’m especially adept at it, I believe.  I think it’s more that I’m willing to do it than anything else.  The carving itself is actually quite simple, once you understand how to take the breast off the bone, and know where to crack off the wings and drumsticks.  It can get a little messy, however.  I should probably invest in a pair of turkey-handling gloves (I assume that this is something that exists), but normally I just use a little tin foil to hold anything steady (any tips or tricks you may have would be appreciated).  At any rate, while I enjoy turkey, I don’t like gravy.  Like, on anything.  I guess this is the same proclivity that makes me dislike condiments (with the exception of possibly ketchup [or catsup, depending on where you’re from]) on hot dogs, hamburgers, and so forth.  There’s just something about gravy that turns me off, but what can you do, right?  What the hell has this got to do with Giulio Giuseppe Negri’s (credited on screen) and Yilmaz Atadeniz’s (credited as co-director on IMdB) Four for All (aka Dort Hergele aka Fighting Killer)?  Well, the film is an Italian/Turkish co-production and was filmed in Istanbul, Turkey.  But really I was just grasping at straws for an introduction this week.

Members of The Organization are murdered at the command of the villainous Joseph (I love the genericity of foreign language genre film character names, don’t you?), who wants total control of the crime world in Istanbul.  The unlikely-named Tony Tiger (Irfan Atasoy, also a co-writer on the film and a man who perhaps enjoys Frosted Flakes a bit too much) and his family are targeted soon thereafter, but Tony survives, thanks to former flame (no pun intended; when you read further you’ll understand) Olga (Feri Cansel).  Calling upon three buddies he bonded closely (perhaps intimately) with during “The War,” including Nick (Richard Harrison) a gambler, Gordon (Gordon Mitchell) a Judo expert, and Brady (Fikret Hakan) a crooner, Tony plots his vengeance.

Four for All is, first and foremost, a revenge story, and in this it is, like so very many films from Turkey, both straightforward and quite insane.  Tony certainly has good reason to be out for blood, as I think almost anyone who is tortured and whose family is ruthlessly murdered does.  But the four killers really go the extra mile for Tony.  They beat his son Nino (and I have to say here that the actors actually do throw this kid around and smack him up a bit, unless the boy was in reality an amazing stuntman, and the scene was extraordinarily blocked out, but I doubt it).  They rape his wife.  They tie Tony up, spread eagle and face down, hanging over the carnage.  Then they light his house on fire.  Now, that’s a total “goon service” package, if ever there was one.  What this all does, of course, is gives Tony a reason to go on living, a singular purpose to his now-miserable existence.  Characters like him cannot move on or find closure like normal human beings.  The retribution beast must be fed (maybe this is why his surname is Tiger?), and nothing else matters.  Olga offers him solace (kind of), and while he stays with her, there is no indication that the two ever reignite (no pun intended…again) their former relationship (and the handling of Olga throughout the film is something I’ll let you discover for yourself if you choose to watch this movie).  His friends are there for him, but Tony is myopic in his obsession.  He has to be.  He has no other raison d’etre, now that his family has been destroyed.  I think that the interesting thing about this drive in cinema is that it can end in death for the hero as easily as he can walk away from it at the fade out, but, either way, he will not emerge unscathed, and quite often, the protagonist finds that his revenge, though cathartic for characters (and audiences), ultimately is meaningless.

The film is also an Assemble the Team story, and the camaraderie between the four men (referred to directly as The Four Musketeers, though I think that reference is fairly superficial here) is heightened to an unrealistic degree (this in a film rife with unrealistic touches).  In the flashback scenes to their time in “The War” (I assume this is a reference to Vietnam [though possibly not], since all the guys are the same age then as they are in the present), the men are shown laughing and having a good old time (as you would expect of soldiers during wartime).  Nick, Gordon, and Brady are also shown running (practically skipping with glee) from different sides toward Tony (who inhabits the camera’s POV), calling out his name, because Tony is the center of the group and of this story.  This will be revisited as a visual motif when the four meet up again before and after their “mission.”  Tony stands on a silent hilltop.  As he turns, each of his friends approach from separate (yet deliberately geometric) directions.  These men are so dedicated to their bond, they actually stack hands to display their solidarity with one another (I always think of the origin story of The Fantastic Four when I see this type of visual, but that’s just me).  

Nevertheless, the film, its characters, and its structure are distinctly comic-book-esque.  The cabal of gangsters is straight out of a James Bond film.  They gather at a long table, sneer at each other, and discuss their business with the polished casualness of executives delivering quarterly budget reports.  They all dress like they were peeled off a Dick Tracy cartoon with a glob of Silly Putty (and it should be said, I believe this film may have the most magnificent collection of mustaches ever assembled under one roof).  They wallow in their cruelty, chuckling and grinning as they go about their work.  

By that same token, our heroes’ story is divided up in such a way that I was immediately reminded of the longtime structure for DC Comics’ early Justice League of America books (and others like The Sea Devils and so forth, but the JLA stands out for me and is the most recognizable to folks for our purposes here today).  In the comics, there would be a basic threat introduced (say, Starro or Despero, it doesn’t matter).  The characters would then split up and each would tackle some aspect of the peril in individual chapters before they would all gather again at the end to finally vanquish their foe.  The same thing happens in Four for All, where each of the boys tracks down and roughs up one of the four assassins (Gordon chases Bob from a Turkish bath house, Brady busts up Johnny’s wedding day, Tony lures Brahma [Brimmer? Brummer? Who the hell can tell from the various pronunciations heard in the movie] to a remote locale, Nick goes skiing in pursuit of Charlie).  Funny enough, this is one of the most entertaining aspects to the film, since it helps keep the pace moving, gives us varied setups (while still sticking strictly to a formula), and showcases just how outlandish this whole affair is.  Tony’s plan is utter nonsense from stem to stern, and no one with half a brain would agree it, but like reading an old JLA comic, it’s enjoyable nonsense, and in this I can honestly state that I didn’t mind the gravy so much.

MVT:  The action in the film is practically non-stop, and it’s all goofy fun.

Make or Break:  The classic underworld meeting that kicks off the film lays all of this picture’s cards on the table.  S.P.E.C.T.R.E. would be proud.

Score:  6.5/10

Endgame (1983)

I’m not competitive by nature.  I never have been.  Even the times I have played sports, I really couldn’t have given a crap whether or not my team won.  Maybe that’s why we so rarely did.  I always tried to have a sense of good sportsmanship regardless of wins or losses.  I have noticed, however, that this isn’t the predominant disposition (or it is the one given the least attention in the press and so on).  I can’t fathom being reduced to a teeth-gnashing, froth-mouthed ball of rage with regards to overpaid  grown men who are more adept at running, throwing, hitting, kicking, whatever than others.  Am I being a little reductive about this?  Yes, I am, but all I have is my own experiences and observations, so read that however you find comforting. 

I don’t think this applies to all athletes or sports fans, obviously.  Nothing applies across the board when it comes to personalities, and there are people who treat games with the proper level of seriousness they deserve.  But this isn’t what we’re shown on television and in newspapers (what are those?).  We’re shown the absolute worst in human nature with the fans that beat up the fans of the opposing team.  We’re shown the riots that break out after the home team wins or loses a big game.  Naturally, this implicates the media, and they are deserving of some of the blame, no doubt.  It’s only when they have space or need to fill a couple minutes on a slow news night that we hear about the players or fans who do good things like visit children in hospitals, raise money for charities, and so forth.  What was my point again?  Oh, yeah.  I’d have probably been killed in the first episode of the titular Endgame depicted in Joe D’Amato’s film.  Then again, maybe I’d have become as skilled at it as Karnak (George Eastman, whose vest I would like to have).  But it’s doubtful.

In the year 2025, after the big nuclear holocaust everyone expected to happen back in the Eighties actually did, the human population have taken to losing themselves in a television show titled Endgame which depicts people hunting and killing each other and taking Life Plus energy tablets (which have the stench of Soylent Green about them).  Tops in the game is Ron Shannon (Al Cliver), who recently defeated erstwhile buddy and fellow player Karnak.  Shannon is offered lots and lots of gold by Lilith (Laura Gemser) to deliver some mutants (including the young Tommy [Christopher Walsh] who is suggested to be a little more important than the others) to a designated spot in the wastelands by December 25th.  Being the callous, shallow prick he is, Shannon agrees and assembles his team.

The first part of the film (and surprisingly enough, only a short portion of it) is concerned with the games.  Coming four year before The Running Man (the film, not the novella), this blocks out the basics of that film on the budget of a cup of espresso.  You have the colorful characters that have to be defeated, each with a refined skill set (one has swift reflexes, one is George Eastman, and so on).  They are personality-less, but that’s okay, because we only need to deal with them on a very surface/spectacle level.  It mirrors video games, where you battle through each level and have to beat a Level Boss who has unique powers/patterns of behavior.  What is important is that they look visually interesting (and they mostly do here) and that they die well (or are simply defeated).  The same applies to the team Shannon gathers to assist him in his trek, which consists of a strongman, a martial artist, a one-eyed gunslinger, etcetera.  

Of course, also like Paul Michael Glaser’s film, we have the commentary on consumerism and on the television culture which has all but overtaken modern society (and if they had the internet back when this film was produced in 1983, it could have been really interesting).  This isn’t new by any stretch, but I find humanity’s endless capacity to indulge their morbid curiosity to be one of the more fascinating themes in art.  Thus, these aspects appealed to me on a gut level.  We also get the idea of revolutionaries (or in this case, mutants) who are working against their oppressive society to be free, although here, their goal is freedom from persecution rather than the exposure of any of the government’s dirty dealings and such.

This persecution is very clearly delineated in the film as being racial.  The mutants are a stand-in for the Jews, and the military troops are bluntly dressed as Nazi stormtroopers, right down to the “SS” insignia on their uniforms (though here it stands for “Security Services;” oh so clever).  Oddly, Colonel Morgan (Gordon Mitchell) is dressed more like a Soviet Russian officer, so it mixes its tyrants, but I suppose you can’t have it all.  The quest away from discrimination can also be viewed from a biblical perspective, with Shannon playing Moses leading the Hebrews out of Egypt.  Tommy, then, is an analog for Jesus Christ, though when he uses his powers it is interestingly for mass destruction rather than peace (though you could argue just as hard that this destruction is the only way they can find it).  If you like, you can read that last statement as religion (specifically Christianity) on the whole, but either way, the religious aspects to the film are unmistakable.  

Nonetheless, since this is an Italian genre film, the waters have to be muddied just enough give the viewer pause.  Consequently, we get the other mutants, the ones who have been living in the badlands.  These are physically deformed to look like mermen, apemen, and the like.  They also behave more like Lord Humungus’s raiding hordes from The Road Warrior than they do like the nice mutants here.  This distinction is important, because it draws a line between good mutants and bad, and the line is limned in appearances.  Were the bad mutants not ugly to behold, would they be bad guys?  Most likely not, but you never can tell.  Yet this shows a certain shallowness (yeah, I know) in the story.  We can infer that they have to act this way in order to survive in the hostile environment into which they were born, but that there is no sense that there could ever be solidarity between the ugly and normal mutants struck me as odd.  Like its mutant characters, the film is a hodgepodge, and it meanders about quite a bit, and it is contrived as all hell, but it’s never boring, and, in fact, is a downright blast for much of the runtime.  That goes a long way in smoothing over some of the more painful moments.

MVT:  Eastman commands every scene he’s in, which is half due to his imposing, six-foot, nine-inch presence and half due his acting opposite Cliver, one of the least emotive men in Italian cinema (though he still has a charisma all his own somehow).  And did I mention that I really, really, REALLY want his vest from this movie?

Make Or Break:  The game show opening to the film is everything you could want in a Pasta-pocalypse film and then some.  You have improbable violence.  You have even more improbable, KISS-inspired facial makeup.  You have decimated locales.  You have the greatest leather vest in the history of cinema.  There’s really nothing here about which one can complain.

Score:  7.5/10